I can’t count the times that I have said something professionally, not to mention personally, that has come back to bite. Sometimes it’s a nibble, sometimes a chomp.
It was one of those dogwatch nights when I was a newer Sergeant. This night was strangely Q. (We tend to be superstitious not to say it is “qu–t” during any shift. Once uttered, you can count on all hell breaking out afterwards…)
I was cruising in my patrol car southbound on Sacramento Street in South Berkeley when I saw something ahead on the double yellow lines in the roadway. Roadkill, I thought. Hope it isn’t a cat or a small dog. I slowed down and saw the thing… hop. Hop?!
Yup, a rabbit. No, not a wild looking grey thing that had wandered to the urban landscape. It had long floppy ears and a seemingly docile, innocent looking face.
I had told my team often, “Nothing is Code 4…” Code 4 means essentially that “I got this.” No other assistance needed. I can handle this myself. Think you get the idea.
Too many incidents in policing, in humanity, in the urban spaces may start out being benign and Pow! Whack! Wham! (Hmmm that sounded like a comic book)